


Do fish drown?

by pinkruru



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant?, Child Abuse, Cults, Dissociative Amnesia, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mental Health Issues, Religious Cults, Religious Themes, Violence, essentially just piecing together what was given to us and self indulging, implied grooming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:42:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27532468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkruru/pseuds/pinkruru
Summary: A documentation of Shinkai Kanata's life
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	1. PREFACE

**Author's Note:**

> Fic is not mine, posting for a friend! Go give her some love on Twitter @kenz00v

####  _PREFACE:_

In order to survive, the human child is conditioned to identify and cling to whichever caregiver is available. When the caregiver -be they one person, or a group of people- happens to be an object of torment to the child, it is found in most cases that the child will develop survival tactics to trick himself into adapting; stockholm syndrome and dissociative amnesia are often found in the list of these so called survival tactics. The two might tangle to feed each other’s fire, when the victim blocks out information related to traumatic events and creates important gaps in his memory, he might not remember fully any of the psychological and physical harm brought to him by the abuser, he’ll reject and even come to hate other parties looking to rescue him and sympathize the most with his tormentor...

But the impact of those events is painfully present, it can be observed in the child’s verbal and body language, his personality, his beliefs.

On the off chance that you burrow deep enough, you’ll find the root of them. You’ll be able to delve into what the profound and dark ocean covers up inside its caverns.


	2. FAMILY

__

#### _FAMILY:_

__

**30.08.1997**

Moments after his birth, Kanata was isolated from his birth giver, each week a new face was in charge of his basic baby needs. And each hand was as warm and as loving as the previous one, but they made sure that when he cried, he never cried for any of them. His mother was the ocean.

**31.08.2002**

At the age of five, the day after his birthday, started a new stage of his holy journey.

He was left alone inside the water six hours a day _where he belonged_. At noon he would get to eat, and play with the children inside the community home, albeit the greater part of them were dragged by their ears, punished into never talking to him again.He was left with one friend. He never went to school but he was taught Hiragana, Katakana and Kanji, he knew how to read. Words had no meaning and reading is not the average five year old’s preferred activity, it didn’t achieve much. What he knew of language were bits and pieces he picked up from the people around him, people rarely spoke to him, they spoke to a God. He realized soon enough he was the "God" in question.

In a world where he was the Other, he desperately looked for similarities in people around him, he’d point out that he had the same green eyes as the middle aged man he saw so often have lunch in front of his aquarium, he could tell he had the same cyan hair as a teenaged girl who stared at him but never touched him.The next day he noticed their visits became rarer. The fish were his only stable company, if he wasn’t a human, if these things were always inside the aquarium like him, then he must be one of them. That’s right, he was a fish amongst fish! It didn’t matter how different he looked, none of the fish looked like each other as well. Their scales were as brightly colored as his own hair. The safest conclusion was that he was one of them!

He became happy floating inside the tank with his quiet friends, he didn’t need to use what little language he knew to communicate, they’d still be there, right by his side. He never wanted to leave them, he could spend days “swimming” with them with little interruption. Floating.

His legs grew weaker by the day, he rarely used them, it became tiring to go out, he lost all sense of curiosity for the outside world, it was so much better to just float among the bubbles...just float.


	3. RED APPLE

####  _RED APPLE_

_“With dissociative amnesia, the memories still exist but are deeply buried within the person's mind and cannot be recalled. However, the memories might resurface on their own or after being triggered by something in the person's surroundings.”_

**03.11.2014.**  
School festival, seventeen years old Kanata’s hands are busy holding his unitmates and friends’ hands, Shinobu on his left and Tetora his right. He liked the warmth around him blocking out the eleventh month of the year’s fresh breeze, it came from his friends and from the people around, they looked happy and full of expression, lively. Kanata was easily at his happiest surrounded by life and warmth.

That, until..

Chiaki came back, Midori trailing behind him, he was holding a candy apple.

“Sorry for the wait guys but, look what Takamine-kun bought us, it’s a candy apple!”

“Wahh It’s been a while since I had any, brings me back~” Tetora joyfully reached for one of the sticks the shiny, sugar coated apples sat on.

“It’s bright red just like Ryusei Red! Just like me Hahahahaa!”

“Uuu..Don’t ruin it Morisawa-senpai…” Midori handed Kanata his share as he mindlessly told their leader off and Kanata’s blood ran cold.

**09.01.2007**  
A little more than a week after new years, and a few months following his ninth birthday, Kanata was of age to participate in his first ceremony, who He -a god- was the main subject of.

That day, at dawn, they woke him up, the man he recognized by his very green eyes, washed the young Kanata’s face in abrupt movements with one big hand, for the first time in years they gave him a t-shirt and shorts to _go out_.

He was carried inside a white Daihatsu, thrown in the backseat for five long hours on the highway. Finally, he was bored enough to look and his eyes lit up, he saw fields of green and yellow messily scattered under the blue sky, it was nine in the morning and everything was so *colorful*. Little Kanata was overcome, unable to even describe it to himself.

“Pull over right here.” The man who woke him up, and sat beside him the entire ride, a cigarette in hand, ordered the driver to stop right as Kanata raised his head to watch from the window. “Our Lord chose this place. Let us have him explore it.”

He stepped out and was instantly escorted to the sunflower field, the man crouched to his level and turned him around to face the field, cigarette still in mouth, he spoke with a lisp and a commanding tone.

“Run, Kanata-sama. Run until we tell you to stop. Then walk to where you heard our voices. Go!”

So Kanata ran, even sprinted at first, it didn’t last long and his rhythm went down, the flowers were taller than his small body and his legs, that he barely ever used, were already nearing their limit but no sign was made for him to stop. He didn’t want to disappoint them, so he kept coursing through the field, a subject of curiosity and captivation became associated with pain, sweat, and ragged breathing. The tall grass felt like tentacles grabbing at him and tripping him to swallow him up, he ran out of fear.

It lasted an hour and felt like twelve. His vision went black for a few seconds after he stopped, his entire face was red, the veins on his hips and legs were pulsating so intensely that it scared him to feel them. Kanata never wanted to run again. But he knew not to disobey his people. So he walked where his ears guided him. His t-shirt was drenched in sweat yet the man greeting him didn’t care, he hugged him -measuring his temperature by touch- and whispered;

“Very good.” 

He was then carried to an empty field and given a change of clothes and one big candy apple, he opened his mouth to complain but his breath still escaped him. He liked the fresh feeling his clothes gave him, a simple white linen kimono. He looked up again and what felt like a thousand eyes watching him were a dozen people standing in a line all across the field, he recognized two of them to be his friend’s caregivers. The Mikejimas.

The blue haired woman stood far from them, The Man stood next to her and was rid of his cigarette this time. Kanata took a few licks of his newly acquired treat and an older woman walked in out of nowhere, to Kanata who didn’t notice the cars surrounding the area.

She delicately held a burnt knife blade and with all the elegance and grace in the world, walked over to Kanata, and kneeled, she was on the verge of speaking and a cry broke out from behind her. Both Kanata and the elder’s eyes went wide with surprise.

It was the blue haired woman, she screamed and scratched at the arms holding her away from...Kanata. 

“Take mine instead! Please! Please, don’t touch him! Don’t touch him!”

What was pleading cries turned into hoarse rageful shouting, Kanata never saw someone act that way, quietness ruled over his household and its reign was cruel, loud noise was not allowed.

Kanata thought he could grant her wish, to sooth her, to shut her up.

“What is her wish, human?”

The older woman’s attention returned to him and her dark face turned into an apologetic smile, she gave Kanata a few pats on the head and shoved the apple onto his face.

“Do not mind that woman, she has always been a bad girl. And today her monstrous side has shown itself. Bad girls like her are beyond saving. Do not mind her.”

So Kanata relaxed, there was nothing to worry about, there was nothing he had to do! ...Nothing he could do as he watched her get stripped naked and beaten, whipped and stomped on for interrupting the ritual. He heard insults thrown at her that day, that otherwise would have never stained his ears. She did not resist any of it even when blood stained her pretty face, her entire body opened with wounds and red generously flowed out. She came back to herself with a knife to her throat a woman he recognized from her tattoos held.

“No no no..No!! Miss Mikejima..Sorry sorry!! I’m sorry please..please indulge in..His blood. I won’t stop you anymore I won’t I promise I’m sorry...Don’t kill me…”

The crowd fell silent and only her gasping and coughing could be heard, it got closer and closer, she crawled to reach him and nobody stopped her. 

Weakly she embraced him, her red body stained Kanata’s pure white kimono. 

He couldn’t tell she was in pain, he didn’t know the ache of the rough grass scraping her open wounds, he was never taught pain was something humans felt too.

He hugged her back and for the first time, she spoke to him informally, not dissimilar to how Madara did.

“It hurts sweetheart...It will hurt you too, but I did my best...don’t blame me sweetheart. I tried to love you.”

Perplexed by her words, but used to humans babbling nonsense when they came to pray, he stroked her hair with small hands.

“You did well, here, pain pain wash away~ Mhmm, Good girl~” He rearranged her now sticky bangs, who were usually as neat as a doll’s. She kissed his forehead and whispered goodbye. _But where was she going?_

Drops of blood now coated his apple too, they took it away, and took the girl away too. 

The people lined up once again, everything was back in order, except Kanata’s clothes and arms, the elder held his palms and gently wiped them clean with cotton, and with no warning, she cut both of them open. Kanata flinched, and tears quickly filled his eyes, he was taught not to cry out loud so he breathily, softly winced in pain, his teeth tightly glued. He wished over and over for the pain to stop, but he learned that gods cannot have wishes.

It turned out, they made him run so long, so his blood could be as warm and nice as possible for each of them to drink, they used tiny porcelain glasses that each of them already had. They looked euphoric, they thanked him three times each. It seemed like he granted their wishes, so everything was okay, everything was in order, everything was as it should.

From that day on, the blue haired woman never looked him in the eyes again, she didn’t avoid his presence as much as she used to, but she it’s as if she couldn’t see him, she put an invisible veil between them, Kanata didn’t think much of it, at the time.

It was later revealed to him that she was his mother, barely seventeen years older than him and the day he asked her who she was, she attempted strangling him to death. The maternal love for him in her was gone, replaced by it was a bitter cluster of hatred and worship.

**03.11.2014**  
“Kanata? You haven’t touched your apple yet? It’s okay if you don’t want it! I’ll pay Takamine-kun back for it!”

“You don’t have to pay for it, I already bought it for all of us…Sorry Shinkai-senpai, I didn’t ask in advance.UUrrgh…”

“Hmm? ….Yes I am not hungry, you may “take” it Chiaki~”


End file.
